


Catharsis

by Lywinis



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-28
Updated: 2012-04-28
Packaged: 2017-11-04 11:26:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lywinis/pseuds/Lywinis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaidan thinks he's hiding his bruised shoulder, but Shepard proves to be far more observant than he thought. Shenko.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catharsis

**Catharsis**

**A Mass Effect fanfiction by Lywinis**

* * *

Kaidan winced as he tossed his gear down on the table, hoping no one noticed the stiff lines of his shoulder and back. His weapons were seen to first, the Paladin and Mattock cleaned, oiled, and put into their cases for the next mission. Next came the armor; he inspected it for damage and holes, repaired what he needed to, and put it in his locker for storage. By the time he was done, only Shepard remained in the loading bay, her hands working over her Crusader and covered in gun oil. He smiled to himself and went to sit down next to her.

She looked up at his pained grunt, and he kicked himself for not lowering himself down easier. Concern washed over her features as she set the Crusader back on the soft cloth she had spread over the bench.

"Stiff, Major?" she asked, the hint of a smile on her lips. There was always a quirk in the corner that Kaidan never got tired of kissing, that edge of humor that kept them both sane.

"Just a little sore from the workout this afternoon," he said. It had been a workout, too - one of the toughest fights they'd had yet. A crew of Cerberus scientists had decided to defect, including one Jacob Taylor. Kaidan wasn't sure what had gone on between the two, but they seemed friendly, and that was a rare thing to see in Shepard, more so considering Cerberus was involved. She and Jacob had shaken hands like old friends, and for now, that meant they were allies.

"Looks like more than a little soreness," she said, wiping her hands on a rag and turning to face him. "Has this been bothering you for a while?"

"It's nothing a hot shower won't fix," he said, aggravated by her concern and unable to place why.

"Don't snap, Kaidan. I'm trying to help." Her face softened from the hard lines of Commander Shepard, and it was just Celeste, and he sighed.

"The shoulder's been bothering me for a few days, but I didn't mention it because it's the usual aches and pains." All at once, it hit him. He realized why it bothered him - she might not take him with her. Of all the stupid things to be snappish about, this was one of the dumbest. He chuckled, embarrassed.

"Well, if it's bothering you, Kaidan, you're not at peak. That's something you should speak up about. Have you been resting that shoulder with a heat pack?"

She began snapping the pieces of her Crusader together, her hands deft as the shotgun came together in record time. He'd never seen anyone but James build up and break down a weapon as fast as Shepard. Not even Garrus could compete, as hard as he tried. She placed it in the padded case where it was stored and snapped it shut.

"Have you been to see Doctor Chakwas about it, in case you've torn something?" she asked, her eyes narrowed as she stood up.

"I don't think it's that serious, Celeste, it's just an ache."

"But you don't know, Kaidan." Her face set back into the mask of Commander. "Go to Chakwas and get it checked out. That's an order, Major."

"Aye aye, ma'am," he said, the habit of saluting and obeying in his bones by now. She rose and headed for her quarters, a datapad in hand. Off to work, no doubt. He sighed. She was doing it more and more often these days, and he was worried about her. The bags under her eyes were something he couldn't get out of his head. The stress of it was killing her; it was slow, but it was.

He got up and went to go see Doctor Chakwas, because he knew she would hound him until he did.

* * *

Celeste flipped through the latest reports. Another thousand dead per hour on Palaven. The Krogan were pushing back the Reapers, but only just, like a vehicle spinning its tires in the mud. She sighed and tossed the datapad on the bed, scrubbing a hand over her face.

Her comm chirped, and she rose to answer the door. EDI was kind enough to leave her quarters be, only interrupting if it were something that needed urgent attention. So when the door shirred open and she saw Kaidan, it was a mild but pleasant surprise.

"How's the shoulder?" she asked, and gestured for him to come inside.

He stepped in with a smile, dress blues dark enough to be black under the muted lights in the cabin. "It's better, thanks. Chakwas wasn't necessary, she said I just strained it, and that I should rest it for a few days. Are you sure I should…?"

The question hung in the air between them like the mutual hum of their biotics.

She'd have asked him in anyway, but she was glad to see him reporting on his own nonetheless. It was nice to know he was here, in the little bubble she called home, instead of in the hospital or out fighting god knows what without her backup. He was only a short walk away, and that brought her more peace than she'd ever admit out loud. She'd spent a year and a half without him, and she'd be damned if he left again.

"Kaidan, I think we're close enough that no one would question you coming up to visit me. At least not to my face." She gave a wry smile at the memory of Joker interrupting the first touch, the first moment of…whatever this was between them.

Which was another awkward question. She loved him, but she wanted to give him his space, too. He'd held her hand and said all those things at Apollo's, but there was only so much that talk could mend. He still stayed in the crew quarters, and she still slept alone.

"True enough," he said, and the liquid chuckle he gave made her knees watery. She swallowed and gestured to the couch, feeling self-conscious in her hooded sweatshirt. He sank onto the couch, no longer wincing in pain like he had been. He thought he was being clever, hiding it behind a smile when he thought she was looking, but she'd caught the grimace it had turned into as well.

She tucked a leg underneath herself as she sat next to him, the silence not overwhelming, but comfortable between them.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier," she said, surprising them both. She took a deep breath and realized that she didn't want to fight with him, just be with him, and that was enough. She pushed back the stray hair that had escaped her ponytail and tucked it behind her ear, looking away. "I'm worried about you, Kaidan."

"I could say the same for you, Shepard." He shifted closer on the couch, and her heart started a curious triple time that was exhilarating and frightening all at once. It was funny how one man could have the famous hard-ass Commander Shepard tied into knots, and he almost never called her by her first name. She gave a wry smile at the thought, even though she didn't mind.

"When was the last time you slept properly?" he said, pushing another strand of hair out of her face for her. His fingers were warm on her skin. "Before your suicide run through the Omega Relay, I'd bet."

She frowned, annoyed that the conversation had turned to her sleep schedule. "I power nap. Couple of hours gets me through the day."

"And how long can you keep that up?" His voice was gentle, not accusing, and she sighed.

"As long as I have to. I have to keep it together, Kaidan." She gave a helpless, one armed half-shrug. "Everyone is depending on me."

"But that doesn't mean you have to kill yourself to get it done." He frowned, a wrinkle appearing between his brows, and she had the sudden wild urge to smooth it with her lips. It was one she gave into and she leaned forward to press a kiss against his forehead.

His brow smoothed, and she felt his hands rest on her hips as he drew a shaky breath through his nose. She sat back, and saw his eyes dark and half-lidded.

"That's one way to end an argument," he said.

"We weren't arguing."

"Not yet we weren't, but you know how stubborn I can be." His chuckle sent another frisson of heat down her spine.

And then the idea struck, and it was too good to let up. She stood up and unzipped her sweatshirt, tossing it to the side as Kaidan's eyebrows rose in surprise. The cool air of the ship hit her skin where her tank top left her exposed, but she was up and moving.

"Shepard?"

"Strip to your skivvies, Kaidan. I can make your shoulder feel much better." She disappeared into the bathroom, looking for her supplies. "I mean it!"

* * *

There was no arguing with her when she was like this. He knew it, and he knew she would expect to see him in skivvies and he chuckled. Sometimes the words were out of her mouth before she realized what she said, and it was endearing, because it was a rare treat to see Shepard this unguarded. She never dropped the cool mask of the Commander in public anymore, and so he pulled his shirt over his head, wincing a little at the pull on his shoulder.

The bathroom door shirred open again, and Shepard stood there in her tank and running shorts, the ones she almost never ran in but often slept in, holding a towel and a tin of what looked to be Shea butter. Kaidan's eyebrows lifted even higher as she crossed the room and deposited them on the night stand.

"If you wanted me to stay the night, all you had to do was ask," he said, his grin spreading across his face. The idea wasn't a bad one, not by any means; he ached to touch her all the time, to reassure himself that this time he wouldn't wake up in a cold sweat that the dreams of her produced. Still, the lech in him wouldn't let it go without at least a remark.

"Do you want to feel better or not?" she asked, plopping down on the bed and patting the edge. "Come here and lay face down in the middle of the bed when you're done."

To his amusement, she turned away from him, and he complied, stripping down to his jockeys and lying face down, his arms crossed in front of him to pillow his head. She covered his thighs and hips with the towel, and he turned his head to look at her.

"Shepa-anghh…" He slurred into a limp noodle at the first touch of her fingers on his skin. Her fingers were slick, warm and smoothing Shea butter over his shoulders and back. The scent of coconut filled the air and he groaned as her deft fingers, so good at dismantling a shotgun, found a knot in his spine he wasn't even aware was there.

"See, and you were all worried about this being a booty call," she said, and damn her, he could hear the grin in her voice. As long as she kept doing that amazing thing with her thumbs, he was willing to let her be smug all she wanted. Her hands swept up his spine, then back down with even pressure, and then she worked her thumbs into the knot underneath the muscle of his shoulder. It twinged, and then he groaned aloud again as the knot and the pain both eased.

"Mngh," he muttered, eloquent in his appreciation as she smoothed more Shea butter onto his back. Her palms soothed away old hurts, bone deep weariness and traced old scars, mapping out the planes of his back. His eyes slid closed, and he swallowed another sigh as she worked from his shoulders to the base of his spine, trailing her fingers back up to massage the back of his neck. She straddled his hips, her knees braced alongside his ribs, and he marveled at the solid feel of her at his back, the warmth and realness of her, even as he reveled in her touch.

The crackling of the joints in her fingers made him open his eyes and glance at her. She shrugged, rolling her shoulders in apology.

"Long hours at the desk again, makes 'em stiff." She slid off his hips, and he ached for her to return. "You should be good for a hot shower and some bed rest now, Major."

"As soon as I can pour myself out of your bed and into the shower without winding up down the drain," he said, and she laughed, sitting beside the bed to put the top back on the Shea butter.

His hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist, and she froze, a heartbeat between them that sped up in unison as he locked her green eyes with his own warm honey ones.

"Hey," he said, his thumb running across her jittering pulse point.

"Hey yourself," she said, leaning back against her pillow.

"Remind me to return the favor," he said, his back muscles still liquid silk from the deft fingers of his Commander. No, his Celeste. Celeste Shepard. It rolled around his mind, and it felt right, as it always had. He brought the tips of her fingers, still a little slick from the massage, to his lips, and kissed them in reverence.

She gave a sharp inhale, and he saw her, watching him as he watched her, walking on eggshells, always careful.

Careful be damned.

He pushed the towel off his hips and slid up next to her, pulling her closer. She sighed and melted against him, and when he tipped her head back for a kiss, she opened to his eager, questing mouth. His tongue traced her lower lip, savoring the taste of coffee, spice, and something that was just her, sweet enough to leave him wanting more each time he kissed her.

"Scratch that," he murmured as he broke the kiss. "I'm paying you back now."

She laughed and wriggled under his touch as his hands wandered lower, skimming across firm breasts and pausing where nipples peaked under the thin tank. His mouth traced the line of her jaw, that unique jaw that on any other woman would make her look odd, but not his Celeste. It made her hard, determined, and his lips mapped each inch of it, down to her throat, pausing to lick at the pulse point before continuing. Her hands, her marvelous, magical hands, wound in his hair, and he growled as her nails rasped along his scalp, tracing hot lines as he suckled a cloth covered nipple into his mouth. He nipped, and she gasped, pulling. He grinned and skinned her tank up farther, placing kisses along her sternum, over and across her breasts, on her stomach.

He traced past scars, scars that the rebuilding had smoothed and made perfect, but were still fresh in his memory. The slash mark from a Batarian pirate on Elysium, jagged against her ribs, was gone now, but his mouth followed the ghostly path of it.

Her breathing hitched as she realized what he was doing. "Kaidan."

He looked up to find her eyes brimming. "I'm not going anywhere, Shepard. I mean it."

She nodded, and he returned to his task, lips pausing at her navel. She shifted, allowing him access, and he slid her pants down, exposing strong, muscular thighs. Her core was strong and muscular as well, and he traced his hands across the play of muscle before he brought his lips to her stomach. He kissed down, across hip bones, finding new scars to lavish attention on along the way.

"I've missed you," he murmured into her skin. "So, so much."

"Kaidan," she said, and her hands pulled at him. He rose back up, finding her mouth and stroking his palm in a flat arc down her torso as he kissed the breath from her. She gasped into his mouth as he traced the outer lips of her folds, already slick and waiting for him, and he nipped her lip before kissing his way down across the endless span of velvety skin towards her hips.

She moaned, and he glanced up to see her head fall back against the pillows, her hips bucking upward into his fingers as he played them across and around. He moved, if only to kneel between her thighs and lift her hips to his mouth. The first touch had her squirming, and she hooked her knees over his shoulders as her hands fisted in the blankets.

This moment was his, and his alone, and he took the time to savor the sight of her. Her hair was longer now from captivity, splayed out on the pillow behind her. Her tank top was rucked up to grant him access, her knees locked across his shoulders, her fingers wound into the blanket as if it were a lifeline. Her face, though, was what spurred his groan.

Eyes closed, lower lip between her teeth as she trembled under his touch. He did this. He put the flush on her cheeks, jerked the low, needy moans from her mouth, and something hot and possessive rose up in him. The broad flat of his tongue swiped up her slick folds, and her head jerked to the side as he found the small bundle of nerves with the tip. He circled around it, delving into her soaked channel as his hands squeezed her rump, firm and taut under the strain of the position they were in. She arched her hips, driving him deep into the taste of her, and he groaned at the heat of her. She was molten, on fire, and she ignited him as he pushed her over the edge. Her thighs clamped down, and he pulled the delicate nub into his mouth, rolling it across his lips before giving it a gentle scrape with his teeth.

She wailed,  _wailed_ , and he felt the shudder of her orgasm as her heels dug into his shoulders and she shook apart in his hands. He did it, he did  _this_ , and he moaned aloud at the sight of her, breathing hard, hair mussed, eyes closed to slits as she came down from the high he gave her. Kaidan lowered her hips back to the bed and crawled up beside her, capturing her lips again as his hand rested on her stomach, still twitching in the aftershocks.

Hands pushed him flat on his back, and he grunted as she straddled his hips. There was a glint in her eyes that he couldn't place until her hips ground down against him and he was reminded of his rock hard cock straining against the material of his jockeys. That she could have made him forget was a feat in and of itself, and his torso strained from the effort of not flipping her over and chasing his release into oblivion. She undulated her hips, teasing him, and her lips feathered over the tiny scars on his mouth, giving them as much attention as he had paid her ghostly ones. He moaned, his hands on her hips in an instant, and she relented, pulling down the fabric and freeing him to the cool air of the room.

He shivered, but she didn't give him time to adjust, because her core was there, molten as she sank down onto him with a shudder. He was enveloped in her heat, hilted to the base, and his hips snapped upward, his heels digging into the mattress as she rode him. Her tank slid back down, but her hands covered her breasts as she rolled her hips, and his hand snaked between them, intent on pushing her over the edge again.

He could feel the rippling of her walls around his cock, watch the shudder of muscle spasming through her stomach, and he thrust up again, hitting something deep inside her that sent her tumbling over, her slick channel clenching around him and milking him hard. He hissed through his teeth and chased after her, his own release coming far too soon and yet not soon enough as his fingers dug into her hips hard enough to leave bruises on anyone but Shepard.

She leaned down, her breathing erratic as she touched his forehead with her own. He reached up, still dazed, and ran a hand through her hair. She slid to the side, and he followed, his arm sliding across her waist as she tucked her head under his chin.

"You're not sleeping in the crew quarters anymore." It wasn't a question, and his heart thudded against his ribs at the implications.

"Well, that depends, am I going to get a happy ending with all my massages?" He pretended to wince at the light slap she gave his bicep. She yawned, her arm over his hip as she nuzzled his chest. He pressed his lips to the top of her head. "Aye aye, ma'am. Wherever you want me."

**Author's Note:**

> Have some Kaidan smut I wrote to destress from the imminent frustrations this job is already beginning to present. I haven't even started work yet, gosh almighty. That said, I hope you enjoy, Constant Readers. (Yes, my Shepard's name is the same as my Hawke's. No, there are no fucks given.)


End file.
